Tis' be Drama (Rewrite)
by FictionWriterQurl
Summary: What happens when there are no super powered heroes and villains? But, teenage adolescents with lots of drama and romance? A BM/WW fic. Shall we venture in their dilemmas? Rewrite. Cover Image: Credit DeanGrayson (deviantart)
So, if you've been following or reading Tis' be Drama, I've decided to rewrite the entire thing. I won't really stray from my original idea, I just felt like it wasn't written that well and left too much to explain. So, consider this my 2.0 version. Hopefully you are not too disappointed with how I've decided to rewrite it. So, like before, R&R and I do not own any DC characters.

* * *

 _The beginning..._

 _Bruce Wayne: An eccentric billionaire, not yet playboy is: tall dark and handsome, did I also mention that he's young and happens to attend Metropolis Public High School. The question everyone's asking is why he's attending this public school, when he can attend any private school? Is he trying to rub in the fact that he's rich or is he trying to boost his ego by making others feel inadequate? Or could it be that he actually wants to maintain the life of a normal teenager?_

Lois Lane sighs, it's not hard to come by all sorts of gossip and rumors in her school. She figures people just have too much time in their hands, then again, this was high school students she was talking about. Her first choice wasn't to write about general gossip and rumor that was flourishing in her school like the highest waterfall. She craved to write about what was happening in the world, controversies and uncovering the truth, discovering and possibly going on an adventure from time to time…like Nancy Drew.

She pouted a bit before reclining against the mesh chair, arms folded behind her head. Wanting to become a news reporter was no funny business, she wanted to unravel all sorts of dark secrets that were locked away from the world, the kind of stuff that makes you whiplash from shock. Her stories now were as shocking and exciting as the cracked white ceiling above her.

She glances at the sheet of lined paper next to the keyboard filled with names, skimming through the black letters before stopping mid-page, _Diana Prince_. Now she was a mystery, beautiful, bright and rich, with her long ebony hair, blue eyes that shined like diamonds at times, heart-shaped face and with a body like a model, but not much else could be said about the exotic beauty. She wasn't involved in any group, didn't gossip, didn't date anyone at her school, didn't particularly hang around with anyone, no one had any dirt on her. She was like a piece of puzzle that showed up one day that didn't exactly fill the proverbial mold that was their high school.

There was once or twice she got to talk to her, it was brief and to the point. Could you consider nods and one word responses a conversation?

In and out of school like it was something she had to do. People thought she was stuck up and snobbish, like she was better than everyone else because she had it all and chose to exclude them all from it. But, she couldn't help but remember a particular rainy day a few weeks back. She got out of school later than usual, she was serving detention for getting caught inside the boy's locker room. In her defense, she was trying to validate whether or not the school's quarterback used supplements or steroids like some people were saying. She never found out the truth, so that rumor ended up in her '?' pile. A pile where all her failed cases ended up.

That day, she remembered seeing Diana with her long black trench coat and satchel at her side, soaked by the pouring rain, yet she looked like she hadn't a care in the world. She looked a bit sad and lonely sitting by the benches close to the entrance of the school. Her face looked ashen, shoulders droopy, eyes downcast and eyebrows scrunched close to each other like she was about to have a breakdown.

That didn't look like someone who was snobby or stuck-up, at least in her opinion it didn't.

She'd never really get to see Diana around school, only during lunches or when they crossed paths in the hallways. But, when she did, she'd get that image of Diana on that rainy day and she'd think maybe they weren't seeing her, _really_ seeing what lay underneath it all.

Seriously misunderstood, Lois thinks before looking at the clock on the wall, 4:03 it read.

No doubt her best-friend Clark Kent was waiting for her at the school entrance with his family's beat-up but still running blue pick-up truck. Clark was another anomaly that existed in the school, granted she knew him the way she didn't know Diana. Clark was a big-tall broad shouldered guy with dark hair and blue eyes. He was also a part of the school football team, but he didn't act like most jocks did. He had that whole farm-boy look to him to be honest he was kind of shy and quirky, which most girls found unappealing. He also had a not so subtle crush on the quarterback's girlfriend, Lana Lang. She also suspected the quarterback, Whitney Fordman, knew about his crush on Lana.

So, without much thought, she grabbed her backpack and logged out of the school's computer. She had writer's club on Mondays and Wednesdays after school, it was Thursday, but she had access to the club's computer whenever she needed it. Which she used to type her articles.

She had a routine with Clark, he offered her rides because of their schedules and the distance it took to get from her house to his, which was about a 10-minute drive, to and from. He had football practice pretty much all week long after school. Conveniently enough, he usually got out of the locker rooms a little before she did.

Sure enough, he was there, the blue truck sticking out like an eyesore with its blue hues and saturated colors. When she opened the door it creaked, it always did. It was in serious need of a little greasing oil.

"Hey, Smallville." It was a nickname that stuck to him since the day she met him, when he first mentioned where he grew up, a town she knew well. Smallville was the kind of place where everyone knew each other, hardly anyone left the town and consisted mostly of farmers. It was mostly green-yellow fields and grassy plains, yards of empty lands spanning across the horizon. It was a peaceful kind of place where you could witness the shining of stars every night and watch as the sun rose and fell like melted gold.

The handsome male chuckles," You ever going to call me by my actual name?"

She rolls her eyes," You ask me that now?" the door closes with a resounding creek. The engine hums to life like a bear woken from slumber before he shrugs.

"So, how did practice go?" she asks, noticing his smile drop.

"That bad huh?"

"My grades aren't so good. I've been trying to keep up, but all the added practice times and upcoming game against the cougars are kind of getting to me." Clark says easily, he wasn't the type to really hide anything, he was like an open book about his problems and feelings.

"So, what did coach Carter have to say about that?" Coach Carter was a middle-aged man who wore a seriously worn-out cap, plain black shirt that was always tucked into his shorts. He always carried a clipboard around school and had a voice made for announcements, probably from all those years he coached for the school's football team.

"Tutoring, extra credit after the game plus all the regular homework." He says with a frown," If I don't I'll be kicked off the team."

"Ouch. And Whitney, how's he keeping up with his grades?" Highly suspicious considering the fact that she saw him pretty much at all the parties and hangouts the popular kids threw like confetti. If a party was happening, he was there. Clark usually took her to these parties and hangouts, and Whitney sort of had a record for drinking.

Clark shrugged, "He's probably paying someone to do all his work." There was an obvious tension between Clark and Whitney, one she knew had all to do with Lana, his crush. Plus, the fact that Clark knew Whitney wasn't being so faithful to her.

It was a bitter pill for Clark to swallow.

"Any who, guess who's transferring to our school?" She asks instead.

"Who?" He asks, mildly interested, his blue eyes fixed on the road.

"Only Metropolis's soon to be very own youngest billionaire."

Clark shoots a glance her way, eyebrows furrowed in thought before he starts off slowly,

"I don't know. There's a young billionaire living in Metropolis?"

She nods. "Bruce Wayne." She cuts in gleefully, a smile on her face.

"He lives here? And how do you know this?"

She scoffs," Um, didn't you hear the radio stations, news channel's? It's pretty much been the talk of the city. You'd have to live under a rock not to have heard."

He pouts," Sorry for being more concerned for my grades. Besides, why would Bruce Wayne come to our school? It's public."

"Beats me, that's just what everyone's been saying." Familiar dirt road comes into view before she points at a freshly-painted military mailbox that had Lane written in bold white letters on its side," Right here."

"What happened to the old mail box?" He points out.

"Dad wanted a military styled one so he changed it." She easily supplies whilst getting out of the truck, "Just you watch, Kent, next you'll see the house looking more like a military base."

He chuckles," Yeah, right. Pick you up tomorrow?"

She shakes her head," Dad's coming home tonight so he offered to take me."

"Okay. Call me if anything changes." He offers before pulling out of the driveway.

She watches his tail-lights until they blur out of sight before heading inside her house, her house was a typical suburban styled-house, Two stories high with a quaint little backyard and pastel colors for walls. It was just her and her father who lived here, although most of the time it was just her. Her father was a military commander, strict and cordial and with nerves like steel, he ran some military base hours away from Metropolis. Suffice it to say, she didn't know much about what he did or where he was most of the time, it was all confidential.

So, with a roll of her eyes, she plopped down the beige sofa and turned the television on, watching it flick to life before emerging herself in the moment of procrastination. Homework could definitely wait.

* * *

 **[1 month before]**

Gotham, a bleak crime filled city found across the waters from Metropolis was where one of the world's richest families resided in, the Wayne's. The sole living heir held to his roots, refusing to leave his parents legacy behind, despite the memories that drenched his childhood like a dark cloak.

"I thought I told you I don't want to talk about it. It's not up for discussion." A male with a deep baritone says, arms crossed over his chest, back towards a tree in support.

A female's voice retorts, clear and husky with a tinge of defiance in her tone, " _You_ said it wasn't, _I_ never agreed to that. Therefore, I will speak my mind when I please. I want to talk about this. It's not fair that -"

"No." He cuts her off.

She crosses her arms, " If you do not want to discuss this at least have the decency to tell me why?"

He shakes his head, " Why do you have to make this so hard. I'm doing this to make it easier. I can't tell you why either, at least not now."

She fights the urge to stomp her foot before conceding, " Fine, do what you want." She dismisses him with a flippant wave of her hand. Once Bruce decided on something, it was easier to convince the world to move faster. He catches her hand and turns her around effortlessly, it always irked her how easily he man-handled her.

"Which is it Bruce, you want me here or you don't? I can't decide whether you find my presence a burden or not." She snipes at him.

"People could hurt you if they knew. It's not the right time. Maybe in the future, but not now. I promise..." He murmurs, his arms circling around her waist, pulling her into his familiar embrace. She feels the small embers of annoyance dim slightly. She lets him instead pull her a little closer, her arms hanging limp at her sides before she hears him sniff her hair," You've changed your shampoo?"

She doesn't answer immediately, deciding whether or not to drop the subject. She pushes out if his embrace to sit by a fallen log, her gaze towards the lake, the moonlight reflecting a silver path in its dark depths, " So you did notice. I changed it two weeks ago." She says softly, she didn't feel much like putting up a fight.

He inwardly tenses, reading between the lines of what she often refused to voice, recognizing her need to change something in her life, something she could control, even if momentarily and as miniscule as the smell of her shampoo.

"I don't need you shadowing me. You expect me to live a sheltered life. I want to go out and have fun like normal people. I can't do that when all you want to do is wrap me in a bubble of protection that's monitored by _you_." She continues, her blue eyes twinkling under the moonlight's rays.

" I only want to-"

" _Protect_ me, I know." She fiddles with her fingers on her lap, looking longingly at what lay beyond the pine trees," You just don't know how difficult that is. I'm wasting away, watching the world spin around me, watching others live, wishing I could experience life the way they do." She voices softly, her gaze still on the lake.

He doesn't say anything for a while. She could feel him staring at her back, his calculative gaze, she knew he was inwardly trying to figure out what to say to her. Like she was a bomb he needed to diffuse.

"If I have to keep you at arm's length then I will. The world isn't as kind as you want to believe it is, Diana." There it was, and it only took him 30 seconds, she wondered if she was that easy to diffuse.

"You wouldn't wish you lived their life if you knew what they lived like. They don't live a sheltered life the way you and I do, they didn't grow up with our fears, our pain. Normal people don't have our type of secrets—they don't have the need to watch their backs. To hire a group of professionals to make sure _it_ never happens again." This was how Bruce was like, ruthless when he needed to be and without reason or explanation. No soothing words to quell her anxiety, no comfort for her hurting soul, just a bite of cold-harsh reality.

His next words were spoken calmly, like he was just reciting the news report or reading a small passage of a book, "They're out there, waiting to strike at the right moment. You're an obstacle to them, leverage they can use against me when they do. Don't think for a moment that they've stopped looking. We're never truly safe."

"So, now I'm an obstacle." His words hurt sometimes, even with all the walls she built around herself, the masks she's learned to perfect over the years. She figured it showed more when she felt caged, when she felt desperate. Control often slipped a little when it did.

"That's not what I meant, don't twist my words." He counters.

"You might as well have. But, I'm done, I need time away from all of this." She gets up from the log, her mind made up. She's taken all she could at the moment, her feelings strained from all the emotional pulling and anxiety.

He follows her as she ignores him and slaps his hand away when he tries to pull her back.

* * *

 **[Present- 1 month later]**

She hears the powerful crashing of waves from a distance, the cries from the seagulls pulled into its fray, the smell of the ocean wafting in through her nose, she feels the beams of sunlight filter through her living room. Her eyes flutter shut, her eyelashes dimming the light reaching her eyes. She feels warmth spread throughout her body, the pre-summer sun creating hot waves that were continuously being swept away by the fan hanging above her.

The quiet hum of the radio reaches her ears. The flurry of instruments dies down before commercials take their place. She licks her lips, wishing she had an iced-mocha latte in her hands, instead the warm air lulls her into a sleepy state, her muscles waxen from the intense heat.

Her body was strewn across the pearly white sofa, like a ragdoll, her body molded to the sofa. She felt the tell-tell signs of dampness coating the backside of her aqua tank-top.

Then she hears it, like a violent disruption _'…Wayne, said to attend one of Metropolis' very own high schools. Our sources have confirmed that the billionaire heart-throb is set to land moments fr_ —'

She turns the radio off with a click of the remote before letting it drop from her hands and into the white carpet. She opens her eyes, inhaling the deep smell of the salty ocean before closing them and resuming the task of being lulled into a peaceful slumber.

Something close to her ear vibrates, she first ignores it, already knowing who it was. Despite knowing how he would react if she didn't answer, knowing his mind would go into overdrive, assuming she was in distress or worse, dead. She was selfish in those regards, for she had little time to herself and basked in it when she did.

So, with a deep reluctance she clicks the green circular button on the screen of her phone, waiting for his voice to filter through the small speakers.

" _Diana?"_ His deep familiar voice comes through distorted.

"Hmm." She responds a few seconds later.

" _Were you sleeping?"_

She turns her body, laying on her stomach, her face turned away from the phone,

"No…just enjoying the warm air." She says tonelessly, her voice low. A moment of silence fills the air," When were you going to tell me you were coming?"

She waits to hear his response," You do know eventually I was going to find out." She adds after a while, giving him enough time to defend himself, she could already predict what he was going to say. A speechless Bruce was an ashamed Bruce.

 _"I planned to tell you."_

"Why? You've known where I've been all this time. Why the sudden appearance?" She could already see his face; his eyes would always betray what he tried hiding through his own mask. At least she knew him well enough to calculate what each shift in his eyes meant, she figured Alfred did too.

She hears a rustling of noise cut through the background," _I'll talk to you when I get there."_

She sighs when she hears the click signaling he hung up.

[scene changes]

The Wayne family owned real-estate all across the globe, Metropolis was no exception, it made business transactions all the more easier, the more at home he felt the longer he stayed. Though no home felt safe to him, he was like a vagabond, traveling from place to place.

"Is it wise to anger Miss Prince, sir? I should think it will not play in your favor young master." Alfred, Bruce's oldest and only butler said. Bruce considered him part of the family and had long since urged him to retire, all expenses paid by the Wayne family. An offer Alfred vehemently refused.

Bruce presses his lips to his mug, he slightly grimaces, " Is this black?" He asks instead.

" I should think it is."

"It's more bitter than usual." He murmurs into his mug, taking a larger swig of the bitter beverage," Weird."

"Acquired a taste for sweets Master Bruce?" Alfred says, face as stoic as usual.

Bruce shoots a glare at him, " That'll be all Alfred. Be sure to enjoy the rest of the day."

Alfred gives an indignant nod," Give my regards to Miss Prince."

An entire month without seeing Diana, an entire month to do what she pleased without his involvement. It was time for him to make an appearance right?

He fidgets in his chair a little at the thought. She knew, had known for quite some time, if her tone was anything to go by, she was far too calm about it all. It was all too easy for him, no yelling, no hysterics and no clipped tones. Maybe, her month of freedom was enough.

Then again, this was Diana he was talking about. Cunning, patient and forgiving she was, but not one to easily forget.

* * *

She awoke when dark permeated the entire house, the warmth of the sun was absent with its warm rays and light and in its place, a dark and cold blanket that settled into her skin and bones. She blinked her eyes multiple times before letting them adjust on their own, she pushed herself away from the sofa. Her neck felt a little stiff from the position she fell asleep on.

She stretched her aching muscles before checking her phone, 7:21 p.m., it read. She shied away from the bright light of her phone before turning it away from her, instead using it to guide her to the light switch by the entrance of the hallway. Her toe was stubbed by the heavy wooden coffee table and she fought the urge to crumple back into the sofa and soothe it.

She felt her way through the walls instead, flicking the switch, immediately the room was lit.

She checked her phone again, saw the blue bubble flashing over the phone icon, a missed call. It was a number she didn't recognize. Curious, she dialed it back and waited for the dial tone, instead she heard it ringing from a close distance.

She froze, felt a cold shiver pass over her spine, felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Her eyes widened briefly before she gripped her phone tighter, swallowed when she thought she heard someone pick up the phone, fought the urge to flee when she thought she heard them take a breath.

Phone still pressed to her ear, she walked quietly towards the front entrance door. Her mind went immediately on overdrive, there was just no way she was going to fight against whoever was inside the house with her.

At least not before she tried getting away first. Maybe, she should try calling Bruce...

Bruce...she remembered their phone conversation. He would have tried coming over by now. So...where was he?

She hung up the phone. Either that was Bruce testing her, which was not unusual for him, or that was really someone else in her home. She was willing to go back inside to test the first theory out of sheer anger, but then Bruce would never let it go if it was the latter, plus the risk of danger.

He would call her reckless and irresponsible. Which she wasn't, just by his definition her actions would be considered that.

So, she tried calling him to settle the former," Come one Bruce." She muttered under her breath when he didn't answer, all the while checking for any movement around her. She was currently huddled behind a group of bushes close to the front door.

She wondered why the person inside the house hadn't tried coming after her yet, she wasn't exactly armed. She got Bruce's voicemail, which wasn't anything other than an automated message. Figures something like this would happen and Bruce wouldn't pick up his phone.

She then tried dialing the unknown number, because obviously whoever was inside hadn't tried making themselves known yet, for reasons she couldn't understand.

They picked up and like last time, no voice," I know you're there, I can hear you breathing." She said," What do you want?" She asked and waited, fearing for a response that didn't involve the sound of Bruce's voice.

At this point, she figured that it might have been a lot smarter and safer to just call the cops, but then again she'd dealt with them before. Cops could be bought out, impersonated...

She didn't like thinking about that, she figured no one would. They existed to protect you, to make you feel like you were safe, but money could corrupt just about anybody. A lesson she learned too early an age, Bruce more so than her.

She knew Bruce knew more than he let on, for there were things he never discussed with her, things even Alfred would refrain from saying out loud, things they discussed in private and away from her eager ears.

Bruce's paranoia wasn't all that farfetched, in fact, for someone their age it almost seemed like they were much older than they actually were. They were always aware, and at times she wished she didn't have to be, but that was her and Bruce's reality.

So, with her mind set, Diana thought to look outside the bedroom window. The window she knew the sound came from before she'd left, the sound that disrupted her little haven, her sanctuary.

She carefully looked, the phone still pressed to her ear," What do you want?" She repeated, hoping they were still there. No one was in there, she couldn't really see anything but, there was a faint light coming from the top of the mattress, wedged between the pillows. She tried to get a better look, but then that's when she heard it...no, more like _felt_ it.

A presence behind her, she didn't have to look to feel something hovering over her hunched figure. Her heart hammered and a thousand possibilities ran through her mind.

One thought seemed to loom over the rest, _Why didn't she just leave when she had the chance?_ She figured the lack of sleep and overall tiredness had her thinking about just not running at all...however silly that sounded. Gods, she felt like she was in a different dimension, nothing made sense anymore.

A gloved hand covered her mouth , the other took hold of her arms and forced them behind her back before she could react. That hurt a lot, she knew there would be bruises later, if she even survived through this at all to even see them.

She winced, but there was no way in Hades world that she'd let someone overtake her so easily.

She'd wriggled and kicked her way out from the figure, loosening at least one arm from their hold slightly. She'd tried biting the hand that covered her mouth, the figure behind her gave a silent grunt that sounded suspiciously like a male before their hand left her mouth.

"Get away from me." She said breathlessly, she wriggled even harder when he tried to get her into a locked position. Then one arm finally came loose, she used that to ram her elbow into the man's stomach, not once but as many times as she could.

There was a groan and an opening for her to completely escape, but she was angry and wanted someone to bleed, specifically the person assaulting her.

And all those countless hours and training sessions all of a sudden didn't seem all that pointless. She flipped the assailant over and rammed a foot over their neck once they were in the ground, cutting them from attempting to get up and silently threatening to cut their air passage.

She then pulled one of his arms backwards and twisted to a painful degree eliciting a deep groan from the man.

"Who are you?! what do you want with me? who sent you?" The questions coming out of her in a flurry, she didn't have time to catch her breath, much less take any time to think of anything other than keeping the man on the ground.

Bruce would be so proud of her technique , she wasn't just damsel in distress, a princess in need of a hero, she would celebrate her achievement much later when she'd dealt with the intruder, or rather finished torturing him," Speak." She twisted his arm a little more, he gave another pained groan.

"Diana."

It was almost as if Bruce was with her, but that simply couldn't be, because well...that would mean that there was no real danger and she was just being tested once again...and she just couldn't and wouldn't accept that. Her mind took a while to process his presence, took a moment to accept the idea that he was the reason for her current and unnecessary distress.

She closed her eyes, anger coursed through her veins like liquid steel. Now, she was just afraid to pull the mask from his face, not afraid for her life...no...but for his own.

So with clenched teeth, "Gods Bruce if that's you, and you better hope it's not..."

"Diana, let me explain." Comes his hurried response.

"Wrong." She twists his arm mercilessly, he gives a loud yelp, he tries to wriggle free, but she digs her foot into the back of his throat cutting off any more words from his mouth.

"Diana, that hurts." He gasps out, his other arm digging the ground around him.

"It's _supposed_ to." She grits out, she would pop a vein to hurt him, but it would be so worth it, they could both go to the hospital together, preferably with him in far worse condition than her.

"I...was...just...trying..." He chokes out, his response muffled into the ground, he pulls even harder to free himself, his face rubbed harshly across the dirt, he felt the sting of the skin on his cheeks being torn open.

"No! Stop trying...I'm done...with...your tries." She struggled to keep him captive, gods nothing seemed fair, he was stronger than her naturally. Damn puberty and all its unfairness.

And just like that, he had her pinned to the ground with a swift kick and a good lock-hold to her knees, she fell right beside him with a frustrated yell. They were both out of breathe. She wanted to laugh because she felt so out of place, like nothing made sense...like she was ready to allow her frustration and anxiety to swallow her whole.

She felt like crying and laughing at the same time, that wasn't normal she thinks, but damn it all if it didn't help her self soothe.

The dam finally broke, she was laughing in no time all the while tears rolled down her cheeks and into the ground. Her hands went to her eyes, she wanted to hide, to allow the dark of the night to shield her from the world. Her body shook with silent tremors, but she felt like this was what she needed.

"Diana..." Bruce croaks out, he says her name like he was surprised at her outburst, like anyone would be," Are you hurt?! Did I hurt you?"

She felt bipolar, but she supposed that was her brain's way of defending itself. She felt many things lately, suppressed them all and this was the result, her brain finally snapped.

He hovered over her, the ruffled sound going unnoticed by her, he pulled her hands from her face, she had her eyes closed while he did a quick scan of her body, "Diana," He looked at her face, he couldn't see much of it in the dark. But, the moonlight illuminated the teardrops cascading down her cheeks like silver lines, _that_ he could see.

She felt his cold calloused fingers on her cheeks, "Are you hurt?" She caught a whiff of the dark coffee he usually drank in his breath, the rich aroma bringing her back down to earth.

She sniffled," I'm fine." She didn't feel like opening her eyes, didn't feel like facing Bruce just yet.

He sighed, he thought girls were far more complicated than he could ever imagine.

A moment of silence passed between them," What did you think was going to happen? How was I supposed to react?" Diana's tone was cold, a tone she rarely used against him. When she did use it, she meant business and that also meant he was threading on dangerous ground.

He swallowed, he carefully eyed her, her eyes were still closed. Her face showed no emotion, save the tears that dried from the cold night air, leaving behind a dry faint line across her cheeks.

"Don't analyze me." Comes her clipped and harsh tone.

Very thin ground indeed.

"I didn't think you would react this way. I assumed being away would make you less aware of your surroundings...of what happened before." He says honestly, it was best he came forward, she would detect any faint lie he gave and wouldn't forgive him for it.

"What makes you think I would ever forget that. You were _not_ the only one there Bruce, through any of those times. I was also there, you like to constantly beat that reminder into me, never let it cease to exist. You or them." She says, her eyes finally opened, she glared into his eyes. He was hovered over her, sans mask. He must have removed that after he took her down.

He finally took to looking ashamed, that she knew wouldn't last very long. Bruce was always quick to recover from any emotion, "That's not what I wanted."

"You always fail to predict how I would react. I wanted isolation for a reason Bruce. I wanted time away from everything...from you."

Hurt quickly flashed through his eyes, it had been a while since she'd seen that look in his eyes, she hadn't meant to hurt him, "You had to have known that Bruce." But, just like him, she could be heartless at times," I...We need space from each other. Don't you see?"

He looked into her eyes, she saw the confliction in his eyes, the blue that pulled her into its stormy depths, "I don't know how else to be." He offered in explanation, it scared her how lost Bruce seemed at times, scared of how young they really were...scared for all the things they had to be to survive.

"I know." She whispered, "That's why I decided to leave."

"Leave?" he said in surprise," I thought you took all the time you needed?"

She shook her head," A month is not enough, it will never be." She gave a mirthless laugh," I'm done running. It hasn't done anything for you or me."

"You're wrong." He says, he always thought her to be more naive than she should have been, for all the things she'd witnessed and lived through, "We're alive because of that."

"You don't know what it's like to be alive Bruce, to feel like the world isn't going to come crashing down on you, to not have to look behind you out of fear. That's not living, that's just existing." She looked so old and young at the same time to him at the moment, with the stubbornness of a child, and the wise eyes of an adult who had seen far too much and didn't just talk to protect herself.

He couldn't say anything to that, Diana was always a bit more stubborn than he was when she wanted to be, but there was truth in what she said, "You can't leave yourself unprotected Diana. Not like you did here, it was too easy for me to get in here, to subdue you."

She didn't think she was that easy, him insinuating that was insulting, "I didn't need protection. I knew you were watching, you always are."

He couldn't deny that either.

"You assumed I was." He quipped.

"I was surprised at first, when I thought the man behind the mask wasn't you. But, not more surprising then it should have been when it turned out to be you." The glare returned, "It's almost like you're trying to provoke me, or maybe your intention is to drive me away."

Clearly, she was not over what just happened and probably wouldn't be anytime soon.

He gave a deep sigh and decided to concede, one thing Bruce learned over the years was that women were quick to temper, " For how long?"

"I don't like to be timed Bruce."

He felt his frustration building, "You have to keep communication with me. Not like you were here, and you need to have some form of protection."

"You mean like the one I had before, before someone decided to assault me without cause." She mocked," And here I thought I was safe."

"You don't need a cause to assault someone." He informs her like he would a child.

"You didn't." She bites back.

"Some form of protection or I'll decide to do it my way." He reiterates.

She glares at him, "Do it your way." She knew her way would never please him nor stop him from forming his own surveillance method, she didn't want to know, "But, if I so much as feel as though I'm being watched and tested, I will disappear."

He frowns," You will feel like you're being watched, how else are you going to be watched?"

"You know what I mean. I don't need to _see_ that I'm being watched, knowing is enough." She looked at the sky, felt the cold seep into her bones after the sweat damped out. It felt good, "No more tests, Bruce."

She could see that he wanted to argue against that," I mean it. One of us could really get hurt one day. I'll agree to the protection and monitoring, but no more tests." She looked boldly into his eyes, letting him know that this was not something he could contest or bully his way into.

He was silent for a few seconds, she took the opportunity to feel his face in the dark, she felt the scratches in his cheeks, rubbed them gently to remove the sand and dirt particles stuck to the dried blood in his face," You deserved it."

He placed a hand over her hand, "And my dislocated shoulder?"

She smiled, "And so much more."

* * *

Let me know what you think.


End file.
